Tonic
by emaline5678
Summary: Set during season two. After Chase accidentally kills a patient while grieving for his father, he falls for a new patient's daughter. Will she be able to heal his wounds? Very smutty, angsty Chase fiction.


_My first "House" fic, so be kind. I got the idea from re-watching the episode where Chase lost that female patient with the two children. I felt he needed someone's shoulder to cry on or to kiss. Very smutty rated M, very angsty and very Chase-centric, though House, Foreman and Cameron make brief appearances. Alas, none of the "House" characters are mine except Natalie and Marilyn. Cheers!_

**TONIC**

_Knock. Knock._

Dr. Robert Chase groaned at the noise at the door. He casually threw his empty beer bottle to the floor. The brown glass shattered on the wooden floor with a hollow _crash_. Dimly, he was aware that it echoed the feelings in his heart. Hadn't he been fucked enough by God over the past few months? Couldn't he even get bloody wasted on his own anymore?

"Nobody's here," he growled in his Australian accent as thunder crackled outside. He growled at the insistent knocking and ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. Harsh rain pounded against the glass of his apartment windows. He briefly watched the autumn rain. It streaked and obliterated the outside reality until it was a muddled mess of color. Much like his head at the moment. Fortunately, another beer would cure that.

The knock came again on the door, louder this time, causing Chase to growl in frustration. He rose grudgingly to his feet. He clicked off the TV and padded to the door in his stocking feet. He quickly took in his button-down shirt, blue jeans and beard stubble. Well, he doubted that the Queen would be stopping by tonight.

"This had better be _fucking_ good," he grumbled.

Chase yanked open the apartment door and his jaw dropped to the floor. _She_ stood there, soaking wet, like a beacon in the night. Even in her grief and pain, she still shone with her own unique angelic bright light.

"Natalie-" Chase began, his anger suddenly gone as his throat became as dry as sandpaper. "What are you doing here?"

"I – I don't know," she whispered, shivering against the cold. Her blue-gray eyes were wide with tears of grief and pain. It was a look Chase knew all too well. He had seen it in the mirror one too many times over the past few months. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Come in. You're freezing," he murmured, taking her hand gently. It felt like a block of ice in his hand. She willingly followed him inside his apartment. He quickly shut the door behind her, blocking out the wet, cold autumn night. He spied one of his jackets hanging on the black metal coat rack and threw it over her shoulders. It dwarfed her small figure, but it would keep her warm. Just holding her at arm's length already caused his heart to flutter wildly. Her breath was a cool whisper on his cheek as he tried to rub warmth back into her body. He could feel her eyes upon him.

"I know I shouldn't be here," Natalie murmured, her lips as pink as a rosebud – even when cold. He couldn't tear his eyes from her soft mouth. How would she taste against his lips? Could she feel the heat of his breath on her own cheek? Could she already feel his hands trembling on her arms?

"But I didn't want to be alone," she whispered.

"I don't want you to be alone," Chase replied, his heart grieving for her. Tenderly, he pushed a few wet strands of auburn hair off of her forehead. His hand lingered on her soft, wet cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm as his thumb wiped away some of the moisture on her cheek.

He had known her for roughly one week. One week and this woman had turned his life upside down. One week ago she had had a mother who loved her and a teaching job in Minnesota. Now both were gone as disease took one and politics the other. It had shredded Chase up inside to know he could do nothing to stop either one from falling away from her.

"Are you going to send me away?" she asked, her voice a gentle whisper. Chase closed his eyes at the nearness of her. His hand traveled to the smooth ivory of her throat. He ran his fingers gently over the hollow between her collarbones. He could feel her shudder under his touch. He felt the warmth rising now to her rain-drenched skin.

"I wouldn't dare," he whispered, dipping his head to drop kisses along her collarbone. He heard her moan in soft delight as her arms came up to clench his shoulders. He responded by encircling her small waist with his arms. His lips and tongue slid up her soft neck. No, he wouldn't turn her away that night.

Natalie's mother, Marilyn, had been rushed to the Princeton Hospital a week after Chase's suspension had ended. He had accidentally killed a woman, Kalya, months earlier after he had failed to ask her one simple question that would have saved her life. How could he have had expected to see reality in that moment? That same moment that he had learned in a phone call that his father had died of cancer? A cancer that he hadn't even bothered to tell Chase about. His grief had killed a woman. That dark, pain had turned so swiftly to guilt and nightmares. Chase had closed off the world around him to avoid the pain. He had become numb, a human icicle. It was just too hard to _feel_ everyday.

Then Natalie had fallen into his life like a literal star from the heavens, though he hadn't realized it at the time. He had blindly thrown himself into her mother's case as he done with all the others. He had thrown himself into work to stop the ache that threatened to blind him everyday. And yet, this woman, this Natalie, threatened to bring all that to the surface again.

Usually Cameron was the sensitive one of the team. She was the one to hold a patient's hand as they edged closer to the black abyss of death. Chase had never been able to handle that amount of emotion and pain. Yet, there was something about Natalie's eyes that kept him coming back to her side again and again. There was something about the curve of her mouth, the way the freckles were sprinkled over her cheek, the brave way she held her shoulders against the pain that attracted him.

Marilyn was slowly dying of a classic rare disease. Hospital after hospital had misdiagnosed her until Natalie had run out of options for her mother. She was risking her first-year teaching job in Minnesota to save Marilyn. Her friends had told her just to give up – to let Marilyn go. Yet, she couldn't do that. How could she give up on the only family she had left in the world? Her only connection to family – humanity – was dying. She couldn't yet bear spending a lifetime alone in the world.

Chase slowly moved his lush lips across Natalie's jaw. He felt her moan in frustration as he inched slowly to her mouth. He smiled sadly. Instead of finally kissing her, he gently cupped her sweet, soft face in his hands.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his pain echoing hers. She blinked back the tears bravely, placing her hands over his.

"Don't tell me," she whispered. "I'm sick of words. Just show me."

Natalie then pulled his face closer to hers. His mouth finally met her soft rosebud mouth and Chase thought his heart would stop still in his chest. She tasted so sweet and wonderful, a thousand times better than he could have imagined. He kissed her again and again, his teeth nibbling her lips hungrily until she parted them with a gasp. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and barely heard his own moan of pleasure. Natalie pressed herself closer to his strong, nimble body, making his clothes damp. Her hands plunged through his blonde hair, mussing it passionately. He only pulled her closer to him as he kissed her, her tongue meeting his in complete bliss. He marveled at the emotions this woman caused in his heart. He had been so cold, so vacant the last few months. Now Natalie was able to warm him up like no other person could have. His hands slipped both his coat and hers from Natalie's shoulders. His hands then began to run slowly over her body, causing groans of pleasure o issue from her mouth.

Chase's boss, Dr. Gregory House, the best diagnostician in the country still hadn't been able to come up with the right cure for Marilyn. At least not straight away. Besides, he had been too busy arguing with his co-worker, Eric Foreman and flirting with his ex, Stacy. He hadn't really cared about Marilyn. No one else had had to watch Natalie's eyes fade with each false diagnosis, each failed treatment. Chase had watched her crumble with each passing hour as the hope had begun to leave her entirely. He had begun to wonder who the real patient was in the room.

Natalie's mouth left his as she hungrily nibbled his neck. Her small hands fumbled with the buttons of his blue shirt. Chase stole her hands and held them fast in hers. He kissed them to stop their trembling.

"We don't have to hurry," he murmured.

"I know. I just – I just wanted to be closer to you."

"You will, but not all at once, ok?" Chase said, need making his voice crack. "Let's make it last."

Natalie looked up into his eyes. She seemed to sense as he did, that this was just another stolen moment in life. A brief break in the storm of reality. In the morning, the rain would be chased away with the sun…as would Natalie. All stars faded with the morning light. They only had one night to soothe and heal each other's wounds.

"Alright," she whispered, kissing Chase once more. She suddenly smiled softly as she took in his rumpled clothes. "Oh, I'm sorry. I got you all wet."

Chase looked down and laughed. His clothes were now as soaked from the rain as Natalie's were. A mischievous look twinkled in his blue eyes. Natalie smiled and cocked her head at him.

"I think we need to get out of these wet things," he said with a smile.

"I'm all for that," Natalie said with a giggle. It lightened his heart to hear it. He pulled her to him again and kissed her. He lost himself in her mouth again and again as he backed slowly into the darkened bedroom.

Chase had fought hard to find that one elusive cure that would save Marilyn. Instead, he managed to watch her die. As Natalie gripped her mother's hand, Chase wondered if he would have done the same with his own doctor father. He had been so detached and cold with his father. Chase had never forgiven him for being distant, overbearing and for leaving his mother. The divorce had turned his mother into a depressive drunk and his father into a ghost. Chase had become a doctor in a bizarre attempt to better his father. It hadn't mattered anyway. Roan Chase hadn't even bothered to tell his son that he was dying of lung cancer. Would Robert have dropped everything to fly to his father's deathbed? Would he have gripped his father's hand as tightly as Natalie gripped her mother's? Would he have been able to say goodbye?

In the bedroom, Natalie's lips found Chase's again as her fingers finally undid his button-down shirt. She sighed as her eyes and fingers roamed over his smooth muscles. Her mouth soon followed, causing Chase to run his hands impatiently through her auburn hair. When her tongue finally found a nipple, he groaned, closing his eyes in ecstasy. He then lifted her to the bed, stealing kiss after soft kiss as their hands massaged each other's bodies.

Chase had almost unwillingly grown closer to Natalie as he worked on her mother's case. They had begun to talk over coffee or a plate of ignored food. At first, it had started with Chase simply telling her the progress of her mother's case. Then the two had talked about other things – his father, her career, his career, life in general. His heart had begun to thaw after the months of deep freeze. He found he was smiling more with her and even laughing. His hand held hers more often than he would have liked to admit.

He straddled her easily on the bed, her legs rubbing seductively against his. He didn't doubt that she could already feel how much he wanted her as he pressed against her thigh. She seemed to sense him as her hand teasingly rubbed over the hardness in his jeans, causing him to moan.

"You naughty girl," he growled. Natalie giggled in reply. He then tugged at her ruby long-sleeved top, pulling it eagerly over her head. She gasped at the hungry way his eyes roved her exposed stomach and bra-covered chest. His soft mouth soon followed. He sucked and kissed her breasts, rubbing the nipples with his hands until they were hardened points of rock. Her hands massaged his bare back and shoulders, encouraging him on further.

His mouth kissed a warm line across her skin to the belt of her jeans. He felt her tremble from the touch of his lips. He smiled and slowly unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the wet fabric to the floor. He then caressed her short, shapely legs, kissing the soft flesh of her smooth inner thigh. Her pelvis bucked up at him as he softly laid kisses over the wet fabric of her black panties.

"Shhh, sweetheart," Chase whispered soothingly as his mouth found hers again. "You are so beautiful."

"Oh, Robert," she sighed as he kissed her again and again. His lips were already felt raw from her kisses. "You don't know how _good_ this feels. Please, God, don't stop."

"How could I?" he murmured huskily, his breath hot against her throat. His hand slid slowly down her side again until he reached the elastic of her panties. Before he could tease her, she beat him to it, slipping her underwear off of her hips. Then she raised herself off the bed long enough to slip the black lace bra off of her slender shoulders. Gazing into her eyes, he recognized the want and need them. They echoed his own eyes. His hand slipped between her thighs and Natalie bucked her hips to meet him again. As he caressed her, her own hands slid off of his shoulders to cover his one hand, pressing him further inside of her. He panted as he gazed into those beautiful, hungry eyes and then bent this head to kiss her exposed, beautiful breasts.

Chase remembered one of the last times he had seen before that night. House had told her, in his rough, horrid manner that they had found a cure for Marilyn but it was too late. They couldn't save her in time.

Even though House had coldly told Natalie the truth, she had looked only at Chase. Her eyes had bored into him with fear and anxiety as the truth fell like blocks of hard ice chips House's mouth. Chase hadn't been able to meet her eyes the whole time, the guilt already gnawing a new rat nest into his stomach. Once again he had lost a patient. Not only had he failed Marilyn, but he had failed _her_. Then, like a coward, he hadn't even been able to meet her eyes.

"No, there has to be something you can do! There has to be some way to save her," she had cried in frustration. Her mother was in a quiet coma behind her, dying. Natalie had moved closer to Chase, fury twisting her sweet features. He hadn't been able to face that hate either. He couldn't bear to see her hurt or angry with him.

"You sonofabitch," she had shouted. "There has to be something you can do! Anything."

Natalie then slammed herself into Chase, her small fists bouncing painfully off his chest as he winced in emotional and physical pain. Dimly, Chase had been aware of Foreman trying to pull Natalie off of him, but Chase was too quick for him.

"Natalie," he had cried, grabbing her fists with his hands. "Look at me. Natalie, look at me."

She stopped and finally met his eyes. Tears rushed unchecked down her freckled cheeks. Chase barely fought the urge to kiss her then – to hold her and kiss away that pain and anger until nothing but love and happiness remained.

"I'm sorry," he had told her, conscious of how close her body was to his own. The pain in his eyes reflected her own pain. "But we did everything we could. She's going to die."

"No," she had sobbed. Cameron had quickly covered her face with her hands to hide her own tears. House and Foreman only stood and watched mutely behind Natalie.

"Yes," He had whispered, his heart breaking for her. "You have to say goodbye."

"No no no no no no," Natalie had sobbed, finally throwing her arms around Chase's neck and collapsing against his chest. She sobbed against him and he held her to him. He closed his eyes as his hands soothingly rubbed up and down her back. It was highly inappropriate and probably illegal, but he didn't care. She needed a human touch – a friend – a lover at that point. She had needed him. Chase had then chosen to ignore House's skepticism, Foreman's outrage and Cameron's jealousy to be with Natalie. Was it a crime to actually feel and care about another human being?

As the thunder echoed around them, Chase felt Natalie begin to tighten around his fingers and he slowly slipped them out of her.

"No," she begged as his lips soon followed his fingers to the soft, wet area between her thighs.

"Oh, you taste so – God," he whispered as he slipped his tongue inside of her. He lost himself in her scent, her wetness. She was soft everywhere on her body. Natalie moaned in pleasure and arched her back. Her hands gripped the pillow behind her, her legs gripped Chase as his tongue flicked in and out of her. She finally climaxed with a load moan crying out his name into the night.

He slid his lips back up her body as she lay panting beneath him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he kissed her swollen lips. He smiled, knowing she could taste herself on his mouth. As his tongue met hers, he groaned. Suddenly, he was on his back and she was seductively straddling him.

"I can't have all the fun," she murmured. She kissed him again and again as her hands slid all over his naked chest. She ground herself slowly against him until he moaned. He felt as if he would burst soon if she didn't stop teasing him. He grasped her hips to stop her rocking. Instead, it only caused her to buck harder against him.

"God, Natalie," he groaned, closing her eyes in agony and pleasure.

"Oh, Robert," she soothed, her voice like honey against his ears. She quickly sucked on his earlobe.

"Let me help you," she said as her hands moved to his belt buckle. His mind was a blank slate of lust and desire. He was now putty in her small, attractive hands.

After Marilyn had died, Chase had gone to see Natalie again. House was just itching to do a bloody autopsy to confirm his diagnosis, but Chase had to see her once more. Even if it was just to say goodbye.

Natalie had looked so small and alone, sitting in the peach plastic chair by her mother's hospital bed. It should have been raining that morning. The weather should have matched her mood, her grief and agony. Instead, it was 80 degrees and brightly sunny. It seemed God was mocking her sudden abandonment.

"Natalie, I – " He had started, his voice suddenly harsh sand in his throat.

"Get out." She had bit out. Her voice was thick from grief, yet cold and remote. He stared at her back, afraid to move one way or another.

"Natalie, please. Let me stay," he had whispered in agony. Why wouldn't she turn to look at him? His heart broke as he stared at her blank back.

"Get out. Now." She had cried again, her voice even colder. Instead, Chase had stepped closer. He then tried to place a comforting hand onto her slim shoulder. Instead of comfort, he seemed to have caused her only pain. She slithered out from under his grasp as if he burnt her with hot metal.

"Get the fuck away from me!" she had screamed, tears cutting furrows down her cheeks.

"No. I want to stay with you. I want to be with you. Natalie, I l-"

"I don't want to hear it!" she had shouted, covering her hands with her ears. "Just leave me alone. You've done enough damage. Just leave me alone!"

Nurses and security had then rushed into the room, alerted by her screams. They took in Chase and Natalie's tears with confusion. He hadn't pressed her then. As tears of pain filled his own eyes, he backed slowly out of the room. His last image was of Natalie collapsing into her chair, her head in her hands as she shook with grief. Grief that _he_ had unleashed from her.

He had tried to call her later. Instead of hearing her angelic voice, he heard only ring after ring after ring on his phone. After twenty tries, Chase had finally had had the nerve to leave her a message. He then told her everything. He explained how he had done everything he could to save Marilyn. He explained how he felt about Natalie and why. He explained how he loved her.

After leaving the message, he had waited for her to call. Yet, soon, the hours had become days and then weeks. He had given up the hope of ever seeing her sweet freckled face again. Until she showed up drenched on his doorstep at one in the morning.

Natalie looked like a goddess in the dim light of the bedroom as she slowly undid his jeans. He burst free of the hindering fabric with a groan, his tented boxers offering another invitation for Natalie to rub against him.

"Oh, baby," Chase moaned. "Don't tease me."

"What like this?" she whispered softly. He recognized the flush of red in her cheeks and knew she was already close to another orgasm. She ground against him again, her hands trembling over his chest. He sat up quickly and swept her into a heated, wet kiss. She whimpered as she bucked against him again.

"Please, Robert," she gasped, leaning back so he could lick her taut breasts again. "Please, love me. Oh, God, please. Love me."

Chase stopped his kisses and looked into her agonized face. His hands cupped her warm cheek. Love poured out of her faced as he gazed back at her.

"I never stopped," he whispered. Natalie gasped and he kissed her again. He took that opportunity to roll her onto her back. He wriggled completely out of his jeans and boxers. She stared at his swollen manhood for a moment before grasping it with her hands. Chase groaned loudly as he bent over her. She continued to caress him with the right amount of pressure.

"Oh, God, Natalie," he gasped, then pulled herself closer to him. He hungrily kissed her rosebud lips and slowly began to enter her. She moaned his name and wrapped her slender legs around his waist to push him deeper inside of her.

"You feel so good – so right," she breathed. They began to rock slowly against each other, taking the familiar rhythm of lovers. She thought he felt good – she felt like heaven to him. He wanted to drink in every inch of her body. She made him want to run naked through the rain. She made him want to laugh and get totally drunk. She made him want to live – to care.

As Chase kept their rhythm slow, Natalie impatiently whimpered his name in his ear. He wanted things slow so he could remember every moan of pleasure, every touch of her body. She would be gone in the morning, he knew. He could beg and plead for her to stay, but she would still leave. She had to. She was alone now in the world, but she needed to find her own path again on her own. Maybe then in the future they could find each other again – when both were healed.

Outside the apartment, the rain continued on, washing the world clean, washing the pain away. Chase climaxed first with Natalie a few seconds behind him. Not all their pain was washed away, but enough. Their hearts had been cleansed, but the grief and pain still echoed inside of them. It lingered behind like an unwanted ghost, hiding behind every thought and emotion. It would be years before the guilt and pain faded forever, but at least it was a start. Now they could breathe again, talk again, work again – even live again.

Chase knew he would never forget her, his Natalie. She fell asleep in his arms and he knew he'd remember her fragrance, the soft texture of her auburn hair, the exact pout of her rosebud lips. He gave her one last kiss before sleep closed his eyes. Her heart beat against his and he smiled. He smiled for he knew their hearts would continue on for years to come.


End file.
